


learning how to walk(so that we can run)

by asters (mirabilis)



Category: She-Ra and the Princesses of Power (2018)
Genre: Canon Compliant, Character Study, Eventual Fluff, F/F, Getting Together, Hurt/Comfort, She-Ra and the Princesses of Power (2018) Season 5 Spoilers, author still can't believe that catadora is canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-16
Updated: 2020-05-16
Packaged: 2021-03-02 20:01:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,792
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24212539
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mirabilis/pseuds/asters
Summary: You have been searching all this time, waiting patiently for years.
Relationships: Adora/Catra (She-Ra)
Comments: 10
Kudos: 129





	learning how to walk(so that we can run)

**Author's Note:**

> hello. fellow she-ra fandom. I am new here *greets you with a basket of fresh homemade cookies* i wrote this in 2 hours. I have finished watching she-ra a few hours ago. biting my fist over writing this. here you go. hither forth and prosper

In the fright zone, you are taught the ways of the world that cruelly will learn to be crushed beneath your feet. Catra learns this the hard way. But the lessons are subjective because she doesn’t listen. Shadow weaver’s lectures are boring and just a sinking drone of annoyance drilling in her ears for hours. But Adora, she’s different. When you are young, she isn’t much. Adora is an unearthed and broken atonement you must pay that halts underneath the beauty of justice. 

But you will not discover this, not yet. Time will grow unmercifully beneath your feet and pull you into the depths of the world and not even can Adora save you— not even can She-ra save you. 

Catra thinks of battle scars and bruises and training. She remembers the ageless whispers beneath Adora’s blanket under their bunk beds. Hushed whispers and a sacred beacon of hope have not been created. Not yet. Catra is thirteen and pulling close to Adora, is that what she smells like? Like unneeded kindness towards Catra, strands of unruly blond tangles mangled by the blanket. But the blanket is their safe haven from the cruel ways of the world that you almost actually believe that everything is going to be alright. 

You are thirteen, years have passed and you haven’t learned the easy way, chasing through the daunting halls of the fright zone. Catra chases Adora down the corridor, laughter chasing the inside of her bones. It was at that moment that Catra realizes it’ll never be the same. She shuts her eyes tightly, allowing the rigorous air of the fright zone to seize your body, Adora. Adora. Adora. She calls out. You never receive an answer. 

*

You are fifteen, and the hushed embers of the Horde crush you instead, starved of power and treading behind the wake of Adora. There is not She-ra in front of you, only a fifteen year old girl who is not your enemy. A friend. That story comes later. Catra does not know what to make of it, the impossible emotion of fury, and confusion. Mostly confusion, and anger, that’s right. A lot of pent up anger from Lonnie, and Kyle and the rest of the trainees. 

Adora insists they’re all friends, but Catra disagrees. 

“We are not friends.” 

Adora with her budding eyes drowning in curiosity and hidden power bites her lip, and Catra can tell she’s tired, from Catra, from training, but mostly from Catra. She fixes her posture, but also sitting criss-crossed on the chilling floor of the room was growing uncomfortable. “There’s no way I’m promising you that I will apologize.” Adora’s hands are unbelievably warm, and the heat radiates and she shifts, adding: “But I’ll try. For you.” 

Then her eyes light up like a star. And all Catra can think is god, this is bad. She loosens the death grip on her wrist, wiggles it because she’s certain that’s sprained from how tight Adora held her. 

If Adora is a star, when will she fall. If Adora is a star, then what does that make Catra? The correct answer is nothing at all. You are a collapsing, burning ember of hopelessness. You have not fallen, Catra does not succumb to fate, the only question that worries her the most is when will Adora. 

Soon, the whispers say, sooner than later. 

*

The rumors are not true. The name ‘She-ra’ is spread throughout the fright zone but you refuse it, just like how you refused Kyle’s 'homemade Horde style' birthday for your sixteenth birthday. You will chew the tasteless, gummy texture for the sake of Adora, whose eyes light up with pride and watch you in anticipation excitement. 

“It isn’t true.” 

Lies. 

Catra is not surprised. This wasn’t the first lie told to her. 

*

Love. You are unfamiliar with the concept. Perhaps it’s the crushing weight you experience when you witness Adora, adorned in the dwelling of ‘She-ra’. That is Adora. But not her Adora. Or perhaps it’s the twisting taste of betrayal you feel when Adora profusely asks you to stay. 

“Adora? What are you wearing? Now’s not the time to play dress-up and act like the hero.” Catra says, in the midst of flame and fury and smoke. Adora’s eyes are the sea and you are swimming, swimming deep in despair. 

What you really mean is come home and let’s forget everything that’s happened. 

But you don’t get that, pity. “I can’t, the Horde’s been lying to us this whole time! Come with me Catra.” What she really means is—well you don’t know. 

Spoiler alert, you don’t stay. Despite Adora’s fierce pleading, you leave her for the first time. It’s different, impacts you differently than expected. Perhaps it’s the sound of your heart breaking. Or betrayal, they sound so similar at this point. 

“I’m sorry.” You are not though, are you.

*

Catra is eighteen, heartbroken and most of all lonely. The only shed light and source of happiness is gone. Left her for the rebellion of all places, there has to be a reason. And so Catra trains her anger and fixates the blame on the rebellion, it’s a mistake. Adora would never leave her. 

You fixate your anger mostly on the source—Adora. But as much as you hate to admit it, you are heartbroken, and life dulls in the fright zone. Time stills in one oscillatory motion, time is for the patient, and Catra is the least bit patient.

The truth is, you need a guiding hand to lead you in the right direction. Catra’s sole deity has crumbled under the comfort of betrayal, but Catra has not succumbed to comfort, or lies. 

You need her, don’t you. No. That isn’t right, it doesn’t sound or taste right stuck to the roof of your tongue, you don’t want her. You need her. 

  
  


*

Then one day, when you're nineteen, a year has passed and you're captured in the ships of Horde Prime, a celestial being triad with familiar warmth and consecrated hope rescues you. It’s not Adora, well it is, but it’s She-ra, Catra’s eyes are closed but she can feel the gentleness of being cradled in Adora’s arms. Oh god, how good it feels to be here again. In her arms. Maybe now everything will be alright. 

And you are right for a while. Catra is slowly, dreadfully slowly accepting in the circle of Adora’s friends, Sparkles eventually welcomes her with open arms. “Catra, you are here.” 

Adora’s eyes are a vast ocean but she’s not swimming in despair but light and Catra too welcomes the sensation. “I don’t like you. Don’t think anything’s changed.” She swears, but she’s wrong. Something’s changed, an unspoken arrangement of movement in the universe that’s casted them together. For who knows who long. 

Adora hums, eyes glittering with mirth and she socks her shoulder, if she didn’t know any better than she’d say this was just like old times. 

For a while, things are decent. Catra grows accustomed to Adora, to constantly being in her radiating presence. Then she remembers how incredibly reckless she can be. Her ego of heroism will not cloud her judgement. She’s also terribly oblivious, but she supposes when your destiny is a single path of bravery and an unwavering path to save the world you tend to forget about others. Catra. Adora. They fit perfectly in each other's arms. For how long will it last she wonders. 

*

Adora is the glory that enlightens the blood vessels of Catra’s heart, she’s the air she dares to breathe. But now, Adora is in her arms, but not how she imagined. She wants her in her arms, unclothed and bare, radiating in the sheer glory of the sunshine, smiling at her like she’s the only person that matters. And she is. But grief settles upon her smile, it’s sad filled with regrets and she despises that look. I’m sorry, I failed you, it cries out. You did not fail, she will whisper. You have flourished and Catra was not there to witness it. 

She thinks of quiet nights huddled underneath the blanket, the strength built in Adora’s muscles, but now she’s human. 

“Don’t you get it? I love you.” She cries out. She is desperately clinging to the nearest wall, there is Adora, stranded in another situation and it’s up to Catra to raise her from the ashes. 

Adora’s eyes widen, saucers of the brimming ocean, drowning in transparency. She swallows, her brain ransacking of the most logical decision. “I always have.” Catra’s voice cracks slightly, clinging onto the shred of hope. Her eyes widen, and she cannot bring herself to look away. 

Catra looks up, you will continue on. Flourish. “So please, just this once” she pauses. “Stay.” 

You will never let go, not even when all weight falls on your shoulder and it’s up to you to bring Adora back. Catra’s mouth is rough, like sandpaper rubbing against her mouth. She exhales and there she is. The beacon of hope shrouding in rarity in front of her. Ethereal. But slightly broken. She holds on tighter. Wake up. She desperately calls out. Wake up for me. 

Then in the midst of the smoke, slumped against Adora, her eyes flutter open, and she laughs, “I’ve got you, I’m never letting you go.” you’ve let go of the girl in front of you many times, but you will keep your promise.

Adora is beaming, brokenly but beautifully in the most unremarkable way that Catra is caught off guard. “You love me?” Adora asks. 

Gently, cradling her face in her arms, warmth. Adora, she wants to say. “You are such an idiot.” 

Oh god. Is this what love is truly like? “I love you too.” 

But instead, she kisses her instead. Lips chapped and rough, but she doesn’t mind. Hand circling around her arms, she’s pulled in tighter. She is definitely never letting go. The kiss is prevailing, but Catra believes it’s the most magical thing on Etheria, even more extraordinary then She-ra herself. 

*

The nightmares will still come, the terrors will still visit you near your bedside and request to come inside. But you have nothing to fret about, because Adora will be there to fight them off and there’s nothing standing between you. You will stand in a field of light and hope, battle scars will never fade away, memories will be determined to stay but that’s for the better. It will make you grow into a better person. 

And Then it finally comes easily. Catra clasps her hand, seeping warmth cocooning them. It’s over. And she can finally say it. 

“Adora.” 

*

You have been searching all this time, waiting patiently for years. What is it you’ve been looking for?

You. 

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> greetings it is me. I am new here like I mentioned. But ever since I've been enthralled by She-ra I've always wanted ot write a catadora, and with the surprising twist of events here I am at ungodly hours here to provide you a short of catra. I wanted to capture a short thesis of some sorts their relationship, I've been wanting to write a legit fic for them but oh well. this will suffice. I apologize if their characterization and stuff is iffy, this my first time sorry... But I will say, that if you like my works, pls don't be shy to tell me... i rlly appreciate comments to keep me going. so drop a mango or a kudos or even a comment perhaps. all i have to say is CATADORA CANON. thank you. 
> 
> twitter: @sarahartzzz


End file.
